Of Gryphons and Serpents: A Double Tale
by Saru Wolfe
Summary: Four people. Two houses. Two generations. Two notes. Two stories. They weren't supposed to be friends. They weren't supposed to like each other. Shippers are rather obvious.
1. Snape's Gossip

**Disclaimer: If this was mine... I wouldn't still be in denial about Book Seven.**

**Author's Note: Two different inter-house shippers. If you don't like Gryffindor/Slytherin... well, why did you click on this? Anyway, I saw all these fanfics with notes passed in class (which I thought was a pretty cool idea), but none of them had any plot. So, I decided to combine, note-passing, interhouse shipping, a plot, and an Alan Rickman reference all in one story. Interested? Read on!**

**Ah! Before I forget: this is set in the latter part of OotP.**

Minerva McGonagall was finally blessed with free time. She had no classes for an hour and a half; her papers had been graded; and she was not being called to patrol the halls at the moment. The first thing to do, she decided, was to have a large cup of chamomile tea. If she got there at the right time, she could catch up with Pomona and have their usual discussion about the first years. Life was going to be good for the next hour. She reached her destination and turned the door handle, smiling slightly. She could practically _smell_ the chocolate bars….

Upon entering, though, she was met with a most unusual sight: Severus Snape was in the teachers' lounge. He was sitting at the table, smirking at a slightly crumpled, scribbled-on piece of parchment. Minerva searched her memory. There were no mandatory meetings of any sort today, and therefore no reason for Severus to have dragged himself up from his dungeons. The teachers' lounge was more a social place, and so he was rarely present.

The object of her confusion looked up, eyebrow raised. "Are you going to stand in the doorway all day?" He gestured to the paper in front of him. "Have a look, Minerva. This should interest you."

She pulled up a chair, intrigued. "What is it?"

He looked smug. "I confiscated a note from none other than your precious Granger."

Minerva frowned slightly, but didn't reply. To say it was unlike Granger to pass notes was an understatement. However, as she leaned forward, she recognized the neat, round writing of her brightest student. Every other line was made in another student's thin, spiky cursive. She began to read.

Hello.

_Writing notes in class, Granger? What is the world coming to?_

It's only Pepperup Potion. I could practically do that in my sleep.

_Too true. How shall the rest of us mortals ever catch up with you?_

Oh, stuff it. You're just as smart as I am, only you're lazy.

_I think I'll take that as a compliment. Honestly, though, why are we passing notes in front of Snape? Not the wisest pastime._

I need to talk to you… about yesterday?

_There's nothing to talk about. That conversation is over and done with. Or didn't you take the hint when I walked away?_

I think this is a lot more important than you make it out to be.

_Oh, no. I agree. It's very important. But I'll deal with it._

Not alone, surely?

_Yes, alone. Can't you just mind your own business?_

Not about this! I want to help!

_Do you? I know what this is, Granger. It was fun being your guinea pig for inter-house unity, but don't act like you actually care!_

Draco Malfoy, don't you dare assume how I feel!

Minerva paused, went back, and reread the name. She didn't care to look at Severus, lest she see the king of all smirks that he was most likely favoring her with right now. Now far too curious about the entire affair, she continued.

_I'm scared now. My father is nothing compared to you._

I care. Believe me.

_We'll see. Have you told Potty and Weasel yet?_

When are you going to lay off the names?

_It's all in fun, Granger. Now answer the question._

No. I haven't.

_What faith you have in your friends. When, if at all, did you plan to let them know?_

I don't know. "Hey, Harry, you know Malfoy, your mortal enemy? Well, he and I are friends now!" It can't go over horribly well.

_…We're friends?_

Yes! Well, I mean, I thought so. Why?

_Nothing._

No dodging, Draco. Why did you ask?

_If I must. Well, Crabbe and Goyle are more dumb cohorts than friends, and Zabini and his crowd are such wonderful people, you see._

So, we are friends, yes?

_I suppose so._

I can always count on you for definitive answers. But back to our original discussion.

_No._

Yes! Why are you trying to handle it by yourself?

_Because it's my life! Why does it matter to you whether or not I get the __Dark Mark_

Minerva had to squint a little to make it out, but those last words of Malfoy's were definitely "Dark Mark," though someone had scratched them out. She paled, but it wasn't entirely unexpected. He _was_ a Malfoy.

Don't write it down!

_I don't plan on having this note taken up._

But it could! Do you really want to become his servant?

_That doesn't really matter, does it? It's not my choice._

Why not? Because of your father?

_Right. So now I can be a __Death Eater__ or get disowned._

I'd rather be disowned. And please, don't write these things down!

_That's just you. I have a reputation to uphold._

You're worried about your reputation?! And here I thought you were sane!

_No need to get hysterical. I was only making light of the situation. You would, too. Honestly, where would I go? What could I do if my own father turned me out?_

There's always somewhere to go. Dumbledore wouldn't let you live on the streets or anything.

_Yeah? They don't let people live in the school. Besides, no one here trusts me._

Well… there is one other possibility…

_Do go on._

My parents own a vacation home in on the Scottish coast. If nothing else, you could go there.

_You want me to live in a Muggle house?!_

Do you have another choice?

_Great. I'm down to choosing between the Dark Lord and Muggle vacation homes. This is ridiculous._

Ridiculous, but possible. Well?

_I'll think about it._

Good.

_Granger, you actually do care, don't you?_

Why, yes. I'm so glad you noticed. Do

This, apparently, was where Severus had finally noticed his students' note-passing. Minerva stared at the parchment for a few moments, not reading anything, but digesting all this information. At last, she looked up at Severus, who was patiently waiting for her reaction. "That was… interesting," she said.

"That was an understatement." He appeared rather disappointed in her lack of visible shock… or perhaps it was her lack of eloquence. "What ever possessed these students to pass notes in my class?"

Minerva raised an eyebrow. "I hope you aren't being a hypocrite."

"What? I never passed notes when I was a student here. Classes were much more interesting than my classmates."

She grinned maliciously. "Really? Wait here." Turning abruptly, she left the room.

Severus sat down and picked up the note again, rereading it idly. He would have to talk to young Malfoy tonight, and make him see that there were better places to go than vacation homes. Really, it was too obvious that Malfoy wouldn't go through with it if he had any say. Severus rubbed his left arm absently. No one needed another reluctant teen Death Eater.

After a few minutes, Minerva walked in and dropped a plain wooden box on the table in front of him. "There," she said. "Let's see what you make of that."

Glaring suspiciously, he lifted the lid. The box was filled with rolled-up pieces of parchment. He selected the one on top and unrolled it. His eyes widened, and shifted to Minerva. "You _kept_ these?"

"I always keep that sort of thing," she admitted, and her smile turned somewhat sad. "I thought it might turn out to be interesting later."

He looked back down and scanned the paper. Nodding, he rolled it back up and placed in back in the box reverently. "Thank you."

"No…" She picked up Granger's note and tucked it in a pocket. "Thank _you._"

**Review, please. I simply love constructive criticism.**


	2. Office Retrieval

**Disclaimer: Hello. I own Severus Snape. Hands off. Just kidding. But you knew that.**

**Author's Note: Obviously, this is a bit AU. But no one minds, right? Right. Anyway, that Alan Rickman quote (you remember my promise of the quote, right?) is here, don't worry.**

"We have to get that note back! We _have_ to! It's _personal_!" Hermione paced in front of the common room fire.

"Calm down, Hermione," Ron intoned, a bit awed at her unusually frantic mood.

"Yeah, Hermione," Harry said. "If you really need it back, we'll get it."

She stopped. "Really?"

"'Course!" Ron looked affronted. "'Course we will! Only I can't believe _you_ were passing notes in the first place…."

She managed to look a bit guilty, although she was grinning. "Thanks! You can't read it, though," she added.

"What! Why not?" Ron said indignantly. Harry looked as though he was thinking along the same lines, though he kept his mouth shut.

"It's personal," she insisted.

Through a little Marauder-like planning, the trio was ready to retrieve Hermione's mystery note. It was, they agreed, probably being held in Snape's office. Ron and Hermione would stand guard. Harry would be the one to go looking for the note. "I know Snape's office better than anyone," he argued. "Besides, Hermione, we can't have you caught breaking and entering. It'd ruin your record." Hermione would be in the library, near the entrance so she could watch the corridor. Ron would be under the invisibility cloak at the other end of this corridor. Hermione had charmed their DA coins so that Harry would know immediately if either guard spotted Snape. Between the alarm and their position, Harry wouldn't need the invisibility cloak to escape unnoticed.

"_Alohamora_," Harry whispered, and the door to Snape's office eased open a few inches. He slipped inside. It was exactly as it always was: desk, chairs, shelves, and pensieve. Harry sidled over to the desk and began to pull open drawers. Nothing inside them looked even vaguely like a note. Once, he managed to spot Hermione's handwriting, but it was only an old essay on bezoars. Frowning, he sifted through the few papers on top of the desk. The note wasn't there. He straightened up to consider the problem and his eyes fell on a plain wooden box. Curiosity overwhelmed him. He opened it and pulled out one of the many pieces of parchment inside. He grinned. It was a note, but, he noticed, it didn't include Hermione's handwriting. Instead, the two people had a curly, slightly slanted script and a small, spidery scrawl. Harry didn't recognize either of them. He read it.

_**Ugh. How can you stand to pay attention?**_

_It's kind of interesting, actually. Why?_

_**I guess today is just not my day.**_

_So you decided to get me to pass notes?_

_**Come on. You know this by heart.**_

_Maybe._

_**Heard about the Yule Ball?**_

_Unfortunately. That's all anyone can talk about. I can't get a moment's peace._

_**Does that mean you're not going, then?**_

_Of course I'm not going! Who would I go with, anyway?_

_**Generally, one tries asking someone before giving up.**_

_Too humiliating._

_**I'd go with you.**_

_Of course. Now go ahead and laugh._

_**Stop it. I would. Now the question is whether you're going.**_

_I'm not going._

_**You want to, don't you?**_

_No._

_**I'm not standing you up, you know.**_

_I know… I know you wouldn't do that, Evans._

Harry started at the name. He wondered, rather excitedly, whether this was a conversation between his parents. He read on, completely absorbed in the note.

_**Wouldn't you like to go?**_

_Perhaps._

_**Then stop being impossible!**_

_I can't go!_

_**Why not?**_

_I'm not exactly a party person, in case you didn't notice._

_**You know what I think the reason is?**_

_How about the reason I told you?_

_**I think you don't want to be seen by your Housemates with a filthy little Muggleborn.**_

_No, that's not it!_

_**I daresay it is.**_

_I don't care about that! Halfblood, remember? I'm just not one for social events._

_**I'm not sure I believe you.**_

_Please, Evans?_

_**'Please' what, Severus?**_

Well, that explained it. Harry had been confused for this leg of the note, what with references to antisocialism and Muggleborns. But his mother and Snape sounded like _friends_, which was just impossible. Maybe it was another Evans. Even Harry didn't believe that. Swallowing, he continued.

_Believe me._

_**Fine.**_

_Why don't you go with bloody Potter, if you want to go?_

_**Why would I spend my evening with a prat like Potter?**_

_Why would you spend your evening with a prat like me?_

_**You're not a prat – not to me, at least. Besides which you're the only male I can talk to and not want to strangle.**_

_I'm flattered._

_**I'm going, I'm not going alone, and I'm not going with Potter or any of his minions. So what do you say?**_

_All right, if I must._

_**You do the honors.**_

_What? Oh! Lily Evans, will you go to the Yule Ball with me? As friends, I mean. I think._

_**Yes. Was that so bad?**_

_It was rather degrading. I do have some dignity._

_**I know. That's why I love you, Severus!**_

_What?!_

_**Platonically.**_

_Oh. I mean, of course._

_**See you then!**_

_See you then… Lily._

Harry's brain had stopped. He could no longer process what he had been reading. It was too unreal. It was impossible. Suddenly, something hot in his pocket penetrated the fog. He shook his head and pulled out the DA coin. According to the writing on the side, Hermione had spotted Snape coming his way. Harry felt a cold, sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. How long ago had that been? How long had he been standing here without even looking for Hermione's note? The library was a long way away, he reasoned feverishly. If she had only just seen Snape, then he should have plenty of time.

But Snape walked _very_ quickly.

Harry put the impossible note back in the box and, after a second's hesitation, picked up the box to take it with him. Maybe he could make sense of all this later. He headed for the door.

As soon as he opened it, however, he knew he had been reading too long. Snape and Malfoy were standing in the doorway, and Snape was known to recover from shock at amazing speeds. Panicking, Harry threw the box at Snape just as the latter's face began to contort with rage. Surprisingly, Snape caught the box, letting Harry dash past him unhindered.

"POTTER!" he heard as he ran for his life. "I'm going to cut your heart out WITH MY WAND!" Harry dived around a corner just in time to avoid several nasty curses.

Snape remained at the door to his office, still clutching the box possessively. Draco was grinning from ear to ear, imagining the trouble Harry would be in later. After a moment, he turned to the seething potions master. "Why a wand, Professor?" he inquired.

Snape rounded on his favorite student. "Because it's _dull_, you twit! It'll _hurt more_!" With that, he stormed inside. Draco, who wasn't used to being on the receiving end of his godfather's temper, took a moment to recuperate. Then, shrugging it off, he followed Snape into the office. Oh, Potter was going to be in _so much trouble_.

**Did everyone get the wonderful Robin Hood reference? Good. Review. Review and I will go read and review your stories! **


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